His Territory

31

- Lucia 

As we pull into the driveway, I find myself staring at the numbers posted on the mailbox, feeling a strange need to confirm that they haven't changed. But they're still there, clear as day in metallic gold script: 1104.

1104 Bay Boulevard. 1104 Bay Boulevard.

Adrián nudges my arm, breaking me out of my silent mantra. "Stay here. I'm going to check the house."

I nod as he quickly exits the car, and I'm left with a nagging question—Why does he need to check the house?

I return to repeating the address under my breath, searing it into my memory, when he reappears, looking relieved. He walks over, opening my door, and extends a hand. I reach out faster than I should, and he smiles, his fingers closing around mine as he helps me down. But before I can step back, he pulls me in close, his arm snaking around my waist and pressing my hand to his chest.

"It feels good to have things the way they should be," he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine. I can feel his heartbeat quicken under my hand.

"What do you mean?" I ask quietly, trying to focus on his chest rather than his gaze. I bite back a response, anything that could upset him; I know I need to keep him calm if I want a chance to escape.

He drops my hand and releases my waist, lifting my chin with gentle fingers until I'm forced to look up at him. "I mean a nice house, a quiet life for you. That's what we deserve."

I almost laugh, masking it with a small smile. "Don't you mean a quiet life for us?"

His expression darkens, and he steps back, dropping his hand from my chin. "No," he says, his voice flat. "I meant what I said. Para ti y solo para ti."

He turns abruptly and heads back to the car to grab the bags. Shaken, I head inside, trying to shake off the unease left by his words.

I sit at the kitchen counter, my eyes fixed on the waves rolling gently onto the shore through the small window above the sink. The ocean always seems so free, moving with such grace, and yet I know that its every move is dictated by forces beyond its control—the moon, the wind, passing ships. Though vast and beautiful, the ocean is a controlled beast.

I am the ocean, I think, with no real choice in where I go or what I do. The past few years have been an endless cycle of decisions made for me, and perhaps that's why I feel like I'm drowning. The ocean and I have too much in common.

"Mía," Adrián's voice pulls me back, and I turn slowly, meeting his gaze across the room.

"Yes?" I match his soft tone, and I hate how pleased he looks when he hears me.

"I have to go out for a while," he says, his eyes darting around the room as if checking for things he forgot to mention. "Why don't you work on putting everything away, and when I get back, I'll set you up with the laptop so you can start on a new personal statement for law school." He pauses, his eyes narrowing. "And don't open the door for anyone. No one."

I nod, acknowledging his demand, but he isn't satisfied. He crosses the room quickly, grabbing my chin, forcing me to hold his gaze.

"I mean it, Lucia," he growls. "Not a single soul gets in or out of this house. ¿Claro?"

"Claro," I whisper, hating the tremor in my voice. He releases me with a curt nod and presses a kiss to my forehead before heading out the front door.

I listen carefully, waiting to hear his car pull out of the driveway. As soon as I see the black G-wagon disappear past the window, I run for the office.

"Please still be here," I mutter, my fingers digging through the papers in the desk until I feel the cold metal of my phone.

I press the power button, hoping against hope that it has just enough battery. The screen lights up, displaying a dismal 3%. I tap on the messages icon, open a conversation with Cristian, and begin typing:

Don't reply. Address is...

I hesitate, my mind blank. After all that repetition, the numbers escape me. "Come on," I whisper, raking my brain. Suddenly, I remember. 1140, I think, praying I have it right. I quickly finish the message: Address is 1140 Bay Boulevard.

My thumb hovers over the send button just as I hear the front door open. My heart freezes, and I quickly hit Send, then delete the message, shoving the phone back into the drawer under a stack of papers.

I barely have time to shut the drawer before Adrián's footsteps reach the office, and the door creaks open. His face contorts into a snarl as he steps inside, eyes blazing.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" His voice is a growl, filling the room like thunder.

My hands tremble as I try to come up with an excuse. "I... I was just looking for paper. To write down ideas for the personal statement." My voice wavers, and I silently curse myself, but I press on, "I'm sorry, Adrián. I was only trying to find something to work with."

He stands still, breathing heavily as he processes my words. Finally, he lets out a low grunt, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.

"Top left drawer. Pens are in the center."

I nod, scrambling to retrieve a notepad and a pen, holding them up to show him. He doesn't return my weak smile, but he gives a sharp nod, motioning for me to leave.

As I step forward, the faint sound of a vibration breaks the silence. Adrián's eyes dart toward my pocket, then back to the desk. He pulls out his own phone, and I realize with horror that he heard it too. My phone.

We lock eyes, his narrowing as the vibration continues, echoing through the office. In a split second, he launches himself across the room, hands grabbing for my shoulders.

I try to scream, but his hand clamps over my mouth, and the world goes black.